


Conversations on Cups

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, Human AU, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino is not particularly fond of his job: working in a coffee shop can get infuriating, with the long orders and hard to spell names. But frustration at one customer has melded into friendship, and even that’s beginning to shift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conversations on Cups

**Author's Note:**

> Since Belgium doesn't have a canon human name (that I'm aware of, anyways), I used the name Laura.

He’s whistling quietly to himself as he works, the tune clashing with the coffee shop’s chosen soundtrack. He stops to ask each customer’s name and writes them on a cup, relaying the order as he passes it to be fulfilled. His handwriting is neat, particularly compared to his brother’s loopy scribbles. He hands off the cup– decafe latte– to a coworker, and turns to the next customer. 

The man is beaming, green eyes vibrant. “Antonio Fernandez Carriedo,” he says, as if he expects the cashier to put, much less remember, all that. “What’s yours?”

“Lovino,” he grumbles. He continues to hold the pen over the cup, hesitating to put the guy’s name. It’s his job, but that’s infuriating. Who the hell says their full name to order a coffee?

“I would like a venti iced skinny Cinnamon Dolce latte with soy milk, half the pumps of the cinnamon Dolce, with foam and whip, one scoop of whey protein, well mixed with cinnamon on top.”

Lovino blinks a few times, and in an impulse, quickly writes on the cup. BASTARD, it reads. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“Ooh, could I also have some of those chocolate shavings? Or do you not carry them?”

“Suck my balls.” Lovino doesn’t think before saying it, and he immediately curses at himself and his short temper. Dammit, he could get in trouble with his manager for saying that!

The customer stares at him for a moment. “I’ll take that as a no, then.” Somehow his smile isn’t wavering. Hell, he seems happy, like he’s about to laugh. At least he doesn’t have to worry about the manager getting mad at him for that. “How about a plain iced latte?” 

Lovino shrugs. “That can be done. But are you sure you need any caffeine? You already seem like you’re on some sort of a damn sugar rush.” 

Bastard, no, his real name’s Antonio, nods. “I would like it fully caffeinated, please.”

Lovino lets it be.

Antonio is still smiling as he pays, and he digs in his pocket for dimes and nickels rather than asking for change. It’s frustrating, but Lovino has already snapped twice today and he values his job too much to have a third and final strike. If the first two don’t get him fired anyways, that is. Antonio moves from Lovino’s counter to the back of the store, and steps up to grab his drink when ba- er, iced latte, is called out. 

He glances at the cup and laughs, taking a hearty swig to emphasize his point, then wishes Lovino a good day as he leaves the store. 

...

It becomes a routine. Every Friday afternoon, Antonio treats himself to a coffee. His orders are short after that first visit. One day, he adds in an extra description. Decafe iced latte, and then caramel. Lovino, who is a dictionary of insults, gives the man a new nickname every visit. ASSHOLE. DOUCHEBAG. JERKASS. 

“It’s my birthday today,” he says one afternoon. 

“Congratulations for not dying for a year. What do you want?”

“Well, I enjoy your cups, Lovino, they’re really pretty funny. But I was thinking, could you write something nice for me today? As a present?”

“Not sure I can do nice, birthday boy.” He pauses, glancing at Antonio before writing. It’s smaller than usual, and Lovino pauses as soon as he’s finished, staring at the clear cup. “You wanted your usual, right? Or, most importantly, iced. Can use the cup for anything so long as it’s iced. Then again, I’ve never seen you order it hot.”

Antonio nods, but he’s looking away. Ignoring the clear cup, and its writing. “Now pass it off. I want to see what you wrote.”

Lovino laughs. “Want it to be a surprise, huh?” He asks as he hands it off, watching with interest as Antonio waits for his drink to be called. 

“Handsome?”

Antonio blinks and glances at Lovino, a grin forming. 

“Caramel decafe iced latte?” 

“Go ahead, birthday boy.”

Antonio laughs and goes to take the cup, taking a swig and trying to avoid laughter. “Thanks, Lovino!” 

...

They’ve gone back to their usual banter, but Lovino runs out of insults. So he hesitates, then writes another compliment, SWEET on the cup. The next week, he restarts his list of swears, and glares at Antonio for good measure. Don’t want him getting the wrong idea or anything. 

One day Antonio comes but does not wait in line. He rushes to a table for two, a blond woman already sitting at it. LAURA. He takes a sip of her coffee, and the two begin talking. She’s pretty, Lovino admits, but he still doesn’t see what Antonio likes about her. Not that he knows the woman, he reminds himself. Not that he cares who Antonio is involved with.

Lovino finds it a little distracting, the way they’re so engrossed in each other. Antonio doesn’t look away from Laura for one moment, he just sits smiling and laughing and gazing into her eyes. He keeps sneaking glances at the two, and his handwriting trails to one side. Their hands sit, clasped, on top of the table for a fair amount of the conversation. 

When Antonio stands up to leave, he gives Laura a quick hug and kiss goodbye. And Lovino presses the sharpie a little two hard, forming a blot at the end of an S.

...

Antonio continues his visits over the next four weeks, but Laura’s always with him and Lovino’s forced to write his actual name. One day, however, he tags on Carriedo, partially because it’s strange to just write Antonio and partially because he wants to test his memory. He can tell from the laugh he receives from Antonio and the raised eyebrow from Laura that he was correct. 

But today Antonio’s alone and his shoulders are slouched and he doesn’t order coffee. He asks for a hot chocolate, and then for any recommendations of comfort food, before pausing and saying never mind, he’s not that hungry anyways. 

“Why? What’s up, bastard?” Lovino asks, and he slumps a little too because he’s tired and Antonio, ever cheery Antonio, seems so glum. 

“Well, Laura? She’s from Belgium, and she was just visiting for a month. She had to go back home yesterday.” Hm. Lovino may not have liked seeing them together the past few weeks, but if her being gone means Antonio’s not going to be his usual, cheery self, he wouldn’t remind her returning. 

“And you’re stressed about long distance? Sorry, nothing I can offer. I don’t have much experience with dating and shit.” 

“No… we decided it wouldn’t work.” Now he’s smiling again, but there’s no happiness in it. None of his usual light. 

Lovino pauses, then gives the other man a pat on the shoulder. “Cocoa’s on me, bastard.” 

...

It’s been a month now, and Antonio has managed to pick himself up again. He smiles as much as ever, and happily informs Lovino that while they can’t date long distance, he and Laura still email back and forth and have maintained a steady friendship. Skype makes it easier, he says. The air is getting cooler and the leaves are falling, reds and oranges from the tree beside the coffee shop, and Antonio orders hot coffees to make up for the new autumn chill. 

“How long have you been working here?” He asks Lovino one day. 

“Long time,” is his only reply. “Come on, you know at least four months. That should be a good enough answer for you.” 

Antonio laughs and shrugs, and nods. “Alright. Well if you’ve been working here so long, Lovino, you should have picked up a few tricks on how to understand orders!” 

Lovino raises an eyebrow. “Okay, bastard, what do you want?” 

“I want a venti skinny Cinnamon Dolce latte with soy milk, half the pumps of the cinnamon Dolce, with foam and whip, one scoop of whey protein, well mixed with cinnamon on top.”

“…That’s it? No chocolate shavings?” He asks, snickering. He tries to steady the sharpie in his hand, but he’s been planning this for the past three days and his nerves still aren’t calm. 

“Chocolate is optional, but, actually, yes! That sounds yummy.” 

Lovino rolls his eyes, “Alright, bastard. Wait for your order.” He takes a deep breath and writes with a flourish before handing the cup off. 

WILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?


End file.
